Long Mouthing Poems
Long Mouthing Poems. Below are the most popular long Mouthing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mouthing poems by poem length and keyword.
I have just reached the end of the school year
giving my last lesson to the last group, as it were
Unlike before, not quite content with what has been done
on whom would I put the blame in the long run?!
Apart from the human factor, we have Covid-nineteen
and under my wings students at the age of a teen
To teach a youth, you need understanding.. patience and time
how would I make it, as students study part-time?!
Day on, day off.. that’s the school year for them so far
how to ensure the development of the learners’ repertoire?!
Hard I strived to hide the leak of confusion on my face
as it was puzzling to recognize my students with a mask on each face!
I spare you the trouble of an everyday struggle with every task
as my students and I are sweating under a suffocating mask!
Just envision me teaching the phonetic symbols and every problem sound
without accurately mouthing utterances and hearing a clear sound!
“Group 1 or 2?” Would you please your teacher remind?
that’s of paramount importance than any other task assigned!
A quick look at my notebook to check what is written down
so that I would be in the know after each two-week lockdown!
To God’s countless blessings I am grateful so much
though guilty with the feeling of not being able to do much
Still facing the dangers of the pandemic and its many a wave
and need not just get Covid-19 vaccine but also be brave
Possess a valiant heart, share Love and Light with a vibrant energy
have faith in God, in human nature beauty and in the “call of poetry”!
June 10th, 2021
Besma
I join my friend and fellow great poet, Poetic Flame, in his inspiring Poet's Call!
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/covid_toll_and_poets_call_1362448
I watched the pregnant night with all its dark secrets unfold in front of my tired eyes
And the moon full of passion and glory singing loudly above my mystified head
While the dancing stars illuminates profoundly around my sleeping bed.
The night flying with favor saturated with awe landed upon a steady rock
And smile gentle at me, as if I was part of its formidable mystery
It took my powerful hands and travel around the pervasive land
The night full of power and might converse with me until broad day light
We sat upon mountain tops staring each other in the eyes, night searching night
I just could not resist this enigma everything was engraved in a profound paradox.
We flew upon roof tops, tall buildings and skyscrapers observing tiny shadows
bewildered by all the trouble makers, bad men and ruthless gangs.
And there were those who pretended as if they had something to hide
Tip-toeing softly with pistols hanging from their brutal sides, hearts racing miserable.
There we were standing right by their naked beds watching them inter-coursing
We stood right behind their porous doors absorbing every single word , we hear them bad mouthing each other right before the start of the popular show
Oh powerful night why do you keep dragging me out of my spongy bed at nights?
What have I to do with this mystical episode,
I pray thee release me from this tormenting discourse.
The night forced me into cavernous nature, we sat upon tall trees and solid rocks
gallivanting on the beach and running up and down on crystal white sand
We glide through thick forest bewildered by sounds, unfamiliar sounds
with a hopeful message engraved deeply in them.
The night owl had fallen asleep
And there I was bounded by nature way out in the deep
I saw her standing on top of the heightened mountain smiling and waving at me
Everything happened so quickly,it was a glorious mystery.
11:45 pm
Spot light’s glare, shadows rocking
Wooden stage moving beneath my feet
Worn of past performances, steadied for the new breed
Bottles line the edge, dead soldiers, lipstick
Some full, some not, some spilled…nice
She’s there, always there, a comforting sight
Behind the bar, eyes that invite and a laugh that sings
Keeping watch, black printed T, wears it perfectly
Hot as all Hades, but cool as spring
Not sure if she owns this or it owns her…but she knows
Sticks count out the intro… 2,3,4
High on E, bent to a G, this is it, her favorite,
the one that gets her right there
She looks up at me with that smile, that smile
Loving how this feels in her heart
And she knows I know…
The way she moves her head from side to side
Eyes closed, lips smooth, shut tight, grooving
Playing an air guitar now,
She’s good…following my lead fret by fret
She knows how…yes she knows
Maybe I’m in love, no maybe…she is mine
My music is for her, it’s always been for her
And somehow, she’s the lyrics
I have always sung…and always will
I play D’addario, she plays heart strings…mine
Mouthing the words to the chorus,
She is my silent harmony tonight, pitch perfect
This music is us, this club her world, our world
I love this place, I love us and I love her
And she knows…
The 6th Street I am talking about is in Austin Texas. It is the center of the musical world in that city. You can find any kind of music you like being played live in any of a number of different clubs on this street
There are four parts to this series if you care to see them. Actually there are 5, but # 5 would probably be a bit much for this site.
Kathy rides the bus
an hour each day
to reach the club
saving her pennies;
last week
the phone company
shut her off
less than a month overdue
but they keep
single mothers
on edge.
Tall and lean
and yes still lovely
dark from her
Florida sojourns
she always
has a smile
and a dance
she dances close
rubbing her pert breasts
up your chest
her pencil eraser nipples
with their silver rings
almost within
tongue range
then down
slithering, pressing
her body - naked
against your body - clothed
pulling at your shirtwaist
with her teeth
almost mouthing
your crotch.
Her story
high school champion
gymnastics
broken back - recovered
provincial diving champ
but we all have stories
two past husbands
one a cop
“never marry a cop
always angry
sometimes rough
and after
no support."
Thirteen years
working one club
or another
and never think
it isn’t work.
I’d love to answer
her smile
to give her
my shoulder
to lean on,
or at least
a ride home.
But I have
my own story,
kids and a dog
at home,
waiting to be fed.
After the dance
she takes her money
having tickled my fantasies
for another week
and wanders
through the bar
looking
for another customer.
Till seven
then on the bus
and home
to her lucky daughter.
~~~~~~~
Pals
Their faces are still there;
caricatures and cameos,
amigo mugs and jug ears.
Cheering, jeering chums
that would phone at four in the morning
to garble drunken thoughts,
make momentous plans,
or borrow ten quid.
The oddball humorist
and part-time suicide,
the drama queen
contesting her own shadow,
the poet who never wrote a poem.
The mon ami that drank for you
when you could drink no more.
Long after the late-night rides,
I see their features pressed against
softly glowing bus windows,
as London transports them
to other decades, even to far Ohio;
their lips silently mouthing –
warnings perhaps, or
maybe just trying
to cadge another ten nicker.
Words are only words til they are anchored to change,
Which shouldn't sound strange,
To those within range.
Mouthing just the words leaves lips still unaided,
And feet unmoved,
With mountains waiting to be changed.
Change only happens when there is less of the same,
And more upping their game,
To enter the frame.
Deciding what to give up is a good start,
For change to become an art,
And for the heart to play its part.
So when your children join the climate change march,
Ask them if they will give up starch,
Or stop making an arch,
And stop drinking coke in plastic bottles for the whole March.
Only then will I believe the words coming out of their mouth,
As anything more than a cold wind from the south,
That pushes the ice more to the north,
And ask more disasters to come forth.
We have crossed over the bridge, looking back from where we begin; we have crossed over the bridge and have paid dearly for our sins. The sins of lust burn with shame as we try to wrap up this promiscuous game; the days get longer, the night gets shorter and another month jumps onto the fleet.
The devil is strumming his guitar in the back while the ancient alter is spewing out poisonous gas. The scene looks magnificent from afar but danger is looming in the sky waiting for the clouds to roll by. We have been there for a long time, counting down the days when the wind would blow in our way.
The streets are littered with matter and the crows are hanging over the gutter, the grasshopper is jumping about in the bed and volcano erupts exposing the dead.
Thousands of them lined up in the streets, with long guns stretched across their back marching together in a unified manner while the general refused to give up power.
Several ultimatums were given to him but his eyes did not blink and so he held his grounds on a burning throne. The heat was so hot; he had to exchange his military clothes for a silk gown and a gymnastic pose.
We continued our journey across the bridge with a flip-flop on our feet and tee-shirt and jeans to cover our body that were exposed to the burning heat.
Down in the village it was overcast but we continue to press before it gets dark, we had no money or food to eat, we had to beg as we progressed along the street; some people had compassion on us but most of the time we ran out of luck. As the night bears down on us, we found someone that we could trust. She opened her hearts and took us in and gave us a nice shower, a healthy dinner and sends us on our way the next day.
We got some change to ride the bus and we got to our destination without a fuss and so we had to part ways when we reached the city center. I walked through the gate and for the first time I felt detached from someone that was holding on to my frock and bad mouthing me behind my back.
Now I have the space to breathe fresh air and connect to my heart that is so dear; I can still hear your voice mumbling on the air and I want to listen to what you have to share. I can feel your presence far and near. This was a narrow escape.
you opened your mind
and dropped your defences
you smiled at pretences
nodding blind, bending to the lies
you're connected to the tribe
you chatter and shout
mouthing simple phrases
spouting mindless praises
it sounded like clear sense
peddling common nonsense
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
it'll lead you without remorse
stripping humanity, its only cause
it'll drive you insane
wrapping you in chains
while you cry "freedom"
from earthly refrains
A virus of the mind
infecting your senses
entrapped by your pretences
playing on selfish desires
creating falsehoods to admire
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
you realise the truth, only too late
in dreams and faded memories
broken by promises of hate
already it has sealed your fate
day by day, you're fading away
as your mind slowly decays
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
Ah, mine eyes espied a glorious shade tree
On a recent brutally hazy, hot and humid July summer day
Where below the gnarled roots glazed occipital nerve did not see
Yellow-jackets minding their own bees wax when derriere i.e. did essay
Until deux stingers re:
Accessible bared skin aviary members did flay
Vulnerable hide bound part of my right knee
Whereby toxin induced to feel slightly queasy and appear ashen gray
Yet possessed the response to stand up and immediately flee
As co-horts per the hive stirred with protruding stingers ready to lay
Into another area of ripe human flesh with consistency of Brie
Yet, no intent to be cheesy – nay
On the con tray or e
Only attempting to find good humor to stave discomfort at bay
Which quick thinking found me
Summoning medicinal salve to keep any potential swelling away
Thus this mister mom trotted into the Belmont Hills lye bray r e
Soaking damp washcloths
(I packed in plastic bag to cool thyself) and pray
All the while mouthing expletives more emphatic than oye vay e
Healing powers of self would allow this chap to fell okay
Enough until my thirteen-year-old daughter and tutor would sashay
Out into the blistering heat so we could be on our home bound way.
You appeared to me
In the guise of a dream
The clouds surrounded your face
You couldn’t be seen it seems-
I knew you were there- for
You touched my very soul
You were direct
You were intentionally bold-
Without mouthing a word
You told me to “be still my child
For I am here, be still for I am near”-
As you are my witness, those are the very words I did, hear
My mind stopped its inward transition
My aches and pains began to dissipate their leave
My fears were replaced with a peaceful disposition
My tears turned into joy, my heart was relieved-
Your light of protection surrounded me
I felt love like I never had before
You filled my life with happiness
You filled my heart with joy-
You came to me in the guise of a dream
The clouds surrounded your face you could not be seen, it seem
Whenever I try to go back to that place and time that used to be
I close my eyes and there you are- surrounded by clouds blocking my regression
There you are once again rescuing me-